Wednesday, March 12, 2014

On the heels of the
popular, groundbreaking anthology Love Inshallah: American Muslim Women on
Love, Sex, and Intimacy, comes Salaam, Love – the other side of the
story.

As Muslim women become
more proactive in sharing their voices and experiences in the public sphere, a
unique phenomenon has occurred: Muslim men don’t have the same opportunity to
share their own deeply personal stories. Salaam, Love is an effort to create
a ‘safe space’ for Muslim men to discuss some of their most vulnerable moments.

The anthology is divided
into three sections: “Umma: It Takes a Village” shares stories that revolve
around the role of family and friends in the search for marriage (and love);
“Sirat: The Journey” includes inward reflections of each writer’s
transformational experience with spiritual and romantic love; and finally,
“Sabr: In Sickness and in Health” goes beyond the fairytale ending and explores
the deeper, less glamorous aspects of true love.

Just as its predecessor, Love
Inshallah, reflected the realities and experiences of a widely varied
Muslim Ummah, so too do the contributors to Salaam, Love come from
different ethnic and theological backgrounds.

There were several essays
which stood out to me, both in quality of writing and in content – amongst
them, Sam Pierstorff’s “Soda Bottles and Zebra Skins,” “Mother’s Curse” by
Arsalan Ahmed, “Just One Kiss,” by Maher Rahman, “Planet Zero” by John Austin,
“The Promise” by Alan Howard, and “Fertile Ground” by Khizer Husain.

All of these essays shared
something in common: unmistakeable authenticity, excellent writing, and
touching upon issues within the Muslim community that have been previously
ignored but are undeniably a reality.

From extramarital affairs
amongst ‘religious’ Muslims, being rejected for marriage because of race,
fertility vs. adoption, and the heartbreak of losing a loved one, these essays
echoed with a rawness of emotion and relevance. All these topics are still
considered taboo in the Muslim community, and yet are faced by thousands of
Muslims not just in the West, but all around the world.

Although I have often read
works by female authors related to these issues, I was startled to realize that
it was the first time I had read about them from the perspective of Muslim men
who have experienced these matters first-hand. At the risk of sounding cliché,
it was truly enlightening to realize that men – whom many women have come to
think of as the perpetrators of most injustice – are equally affected at an
emotional level and seek to change things for the better.

This glimpse at the
challenges and struggles of Muslim men in their journeys of love and
experiences with lust is must needed; all too often, we buy into the idea that
men experience such things shallowly, with little introspection or
consideration for their actions. Instead, the contributors to Salaam, Love
reminded us of the humanity of men, a prompt to help us recognize that when it
comes to matters of the heart, gender means little. Allah, al-Wadud,
al-Muqallib al-Quloob, is the One Who controls our hearts without the
preconceived, culturally structured ideas of what men and women should
feel; it is He who evokes in our souls a yearning for love of Him, and for
earthly love as well.

However, I will admit that
I also found myself somewhat disappointed by Salaam, Love. In comparison
to Love Inshallah, which I found engaging at every point (with only a
couple of stories which did not resonate with me all that much), the remaining
essays in Salaam, Love came off as mediocre at best. Some rambled on for
far too long, causing me to lose my interest; most ended up sounding like a
recycled version of “brown Muslim boy just wants to be with a girl.”

Nonetheless, Salaam,
Love is enjoyable overall, and is still a book that I would recommend. It
is a one-of-a-kind compilation that reminds men and women alike that the hearts
of men are not so strange or unfathomable as those of women; Muslim men, like
Muslim women, struggle with temptation and desire, seek love and security, and pray
not just for a happily ever after, but for a happily ever afterlife.

2 comments:

The book was white wash and pop fiction as the last. If pre-martial sex or adultery are to be considered shocking, then the Muslims are more pathetic then it can appear. And this idea of the ummah is doing the same or going through the same is bit of a hyperbole, since each individual is acting well individually. To think that the majority of men and women whether Muslim or not are not engaging in affairs or liaisons or in relationships is absurd. This book does lean heavily on the Orientalist fantasy that somehow being Muslims gives you different sexual allure or that Muslims have different genitalia.